


Mama!

by The_Irish_Kiwi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, child birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Irish_Kiwi/pseuds/The_Irish_Kiwi
Summary: In the throes of childbirth, Arya calls for someone who will never come to her side again... or maybe just this one, she has.





	Mama!

**Author's Note:**

> For Sims, because she took my idea of Arya calling for her Mama in childbirth, and added Sansa to the angst idea mix so perfectly in less than 15 words <3

"Breathe, my lady, breathe," Too busy trying to focus on her breathing, Arya does not call out the midwife, who seems intent to keep separating her legs as Arya continues to try and close them. She's making near pathetic whimpering sounds, heavy, as sweat drenches her hair and face, the babe in her belly intent on entering the world, even as Arya clutches at bedsheets. 

_She's not ready_ , she's been told, but she feels as if she is being split in too, and wants nothing more than to scream. Jon was meant to be here, holding her hand, and whispering reassurances to her, but he was not yet arrived, and Arya for the life of her cannot even remember where he or Sansa are. Her bedroom is lit up with candles, even as a snowstorm rages outside, much of Winterfell, still groggy and asleep as their Princess delivered a new babe of Stark blood within its halls. 

"I am breathing, tell me to breathe again and I'll stick Needle through you!" She scowls, face contorting in rage, before settling to pain as she lets out a near screech hands flinging from bed sheets to grip at her swollen belly as if to placate her hips. Her insides flared, and the feeling of being torn in too returned. "He's too big, he's too big, I can't do it..." She's sobbing, she needs Sansa or Jon, anyone... She knows Bran can see all that is happening, but he cannot move from his own room to give her comfort as the elder siblings are sought out. Arya attempts to roll onto her side, only for the midwife to roll her back, resulting in tears from Arya as she cannot even comfort herself. _Stupid idiot._.. 

Pillow at her back to support her back, even as the midwife mutters reassurances, Arya wants to throw it at her, make her shut up, but before words come she's screaming again. Sobs wrack her body as easily as the contractions, "You can do this, my lady-" 

"No, I can't!" Anything, anything but this! The babe has pressed within her, twisting, and tear for hours now, and Arya has started to detest the wolf inside of her. 

"Jon!" She yells, and it's not long until the pounding footsteps reach her ears, and her beloved brother is beside her.

"Yes, you can." It is Jon's voice, as he takes his seat at her side, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. Arya glances towards him, and she's shaking her head, sweat-drenched brown locks sticking to her face. 

"No, No I can't. He's _breaking_ me," she glances out the door, noble men and women awoken and waiting."Why are they here?!" Jon lets out a noise, shaking his head. 

"They want to make sure there isn't a substitute, that your child is not switched with another's." He explained though he had thought it stupid.

"Make them **fuck off**!"Her blood stains the sheets, and hot water is moving in fresh bowls in and out of the room with new towels, before Arya is squeezing Jon's hand hard enough for him to let out a noise of pain, Arya near trying to fling herself off the bed to hide and evade her burning pain, screeching, " _ **MAMA!**_ " It vibrates off the stone walls, and it's on instinct for her to screech for her, as she did as a child. Scrapped knee? Mama. Falling out of bed? Mama. Delivering Babe into the world, and surely dying of the pain that racks her body? Mama. Arya hears lighter footsteps, a feminine voice shooing those who would watch, shutting the door behind her.

Arya falls back in tears again.  _Let the many faced god have her name..._

"Almost there my lady, you'll have to push again soon." She could sod her pushing, Arya thinks opening mouth to retaliated, glancing up at Jon as new pain shook her, and she swore she felt something snap within her, tearing, ripping-

" **MAMA**!" She cannot see for vision is clouded by tears, pain within her body clouding her mind, judgment, and near blacking out her vision, but she can see clear as day, the red hair, blue eyes, high cheeks... "Mama.." She's crying, reaching for her. Her hand is taken, a kiss pressed to her knuckles, as another hand brushes through her hair. Low murmurs are muttered to her, soft kisses placed in her hairline. 

"Come on, sweetling, you can do it," The vision of her mother, says, and still Arya cries, though she wishes she would not. She had been stabbed, and not cried as much, but this hurt. 

"No, No I can't... Mama, please, make it stop." Arya does not see the glance the red-haired woman glances with Jon before she's speaking again. 

"Yes, yes you can. You're stronger than you can believe. You fought White Walkers, you killed them, you defended Winterfell. You are a warrior, and you can do this." She sounds oddly like Sansa, Arya has barely time to think on it as she lurches up, near yelling as she pushes then, feeling tearing, and burning- "Breathe... Breathe..." And so Arya does, noises of exertion leaving her, for a moment, before she's letting out pained noises again, holding the hands of two separate people as she yells and pushes and- She feels her eyes rolling back into her head as she slumps, and it's for more than a few tense moments that Arya feels absolutely nothing, hears only calls of her name, yells to pull the babe out, and Sansa's voice is suddenly in her ears, begging her to awaken, as Jon finds it in him to command her awake. She jolts, forcing her eyes open, and shifting herself to push once more. 

It is not instant relief, as the babe leaves her body, but it is a hell of a lot better than when it was inside of her. She feels them pull the babe away as Arya herself collapses onto the bed, breathing heavy still, wanting just to sleep.

"Breathe, sweetling, the worst is over.." Her mother is muttering, but when Arya looks up it is not her mother who's hand she has been holding, but Sansa's, and strangely.. Arya finds comfort in that, snuggling closer to cry into her shoulder, keeping a tight hold on Jon's hand with her right one. Sansa is petting her hair, and Arya finds it easier to breathe. 

"Your Grace," The midwife is back, and Arya hates her already, "It's a girl!" 

Arya doesn't care. Girl or boy, as long as the babe is healthy, even if Arya wants nothing to do with the babe at that moment, and only wants to rest, and slump against her sister, still pushing her hand through her hair, holding her. "Breathe, Arya, breathe... you've done well." She releases Jon's hand to cling to Sansa, knowing from the way Jon moves he is walking towards her babe, taking her in arms, but Arya just wants to sleep. 

"Thank you... mama." She's drifting as the title leaves her. Though her mother had not been present, Sansa had been, Sansa had known what to do for her, Sansa had soothed her as Mother should've been here to do. "I love you, Sansa." She says softly, "Thank you."

"I love you too, Little Sister. Don't fall asleep, we'll get you cleaned up first." 

"It hurts still," Sansa's nodding her head, stroking her hair.

"I know, I know..." She responds softly, "I've got you, you'll just pass some more blood, some things the babe left behind," She quotes the midwife's words, and Arya nods. She'd had both Mother and Sansa in her deliriums of pain, and all was well... If that midwife stopped trying to tell her to keep breathing as she passed the rest of her fucking blood, or Arya would bleed all over Winterfell looking for where Sansa hid Needle! 


End file.
